21 February 2021

Summit to Mweka Hut

Elevation (ft) 19,341ft to 10,200ft

Distance 3 mi

5 hours descent

Habitat Alpine Desert

From the summit, we now make our descent continuing straight down to the Mweka Hut camp site, stopping at Barafu for lunch. You will want gaiters and trekking poles for the loose gravel going down. Mweka Camp is situated in the upper forest and mist or rain can be expected in the late afternoon. Later in the evening, we enjoy our last dinner on the mountain and a well-earned sleep. *c/o Embark Exploration, Co.

Your gentle embrace

Becomes the wind on my cheek.

Uncertainty fades.

This is not the end.

Saying goodbye at the edge,

I welcome you home.

They say that some will abandon their trek with the summit in sight and now I understand. At Stella Point, I had wrestled with altitude sickness and exhaustion. I was confused, unable to form sentences, I was nauseous and dizzy. I was unable to perform the simple task of clipping my GoPro to my shoulder strap for the final push; the summit attempt would go undocumented. I watched from a distance as my team huddled together with huge smiles on their faces for a selfie on the highest freestanding mountain in the world. I couldn’t have smiled anyway. I’d invited all of my parts to make this journey with me and now I felt fractured and confused. I needed Wilfred to point me towards the crater and encourage me to continue, there wasn’t far to go now. We had been walking up mountain against the blinding snow and wind for eight hours at this point. The dawn had brought clarity of view and relative warmth.

What’s another hour when you are carrying your partner to the stars?

The shuffle around the crater rim was beautiful. The entire world was blanketed in white. Snow became clouds, and spatial awareness was a constraint for those below; I was part of the universe here. No end and no beginning.

Faster hikers were already on their way back; a glimpse into my future if I could just keep moving forward. Words of encouragement were sent our way. “It’s worth it!” and “You are almost there, just keep walking!” Their audible energy was impossible to grasp. Some things don’t change on the mountain... and many things do.

I imagined the porters playing football in that crater. They told us that the games were won and lost in five minute bursts as oxygen would allow. My mind jumped to all sorts of random thoughts as if I was in some sort of frantic dream state. And then there would be nothing at all except the rasp of my breath and numbness as I floated above.

How many times have I wondered if THIS were all a dream? Perhaps I’m the one in purgatory, unaware that it is time to move on, to move through to the other side. UHURU means freedom in Swahili. How would I wake from this strange view?

And suddenly, nine hours after exiting my tent, I HAD ARRIVED. Freedom.

Another strange side effect of the pandemic is that we have the peak to ourselves. Of course I don’t know any different, but apparently we should've expected lines for our photo op at the top of the world. How bizarre, this duality that has embraced my being.

I am going through the motions now, knowing that the photo will be important; documentation will allow me to acknowledge my supporters. I am grateful in a way that swallows “thanks” whole and allows it to radiate out into the world. There is so much love on this lonely planet. Peter was so loved. How wonderful it was to be a part of that warmth.

And just like that, it’s time to leave. We have 10,000 feet to descend before this day is done.

What a strange pilgrimage, this journey to the stars. Approximately 35,000 souls attempt and statistics say that 40-65% summit.

Now it is time to rejoin the race. The thought of getting down had been even more abstract than summiting. This strange dream had ended with a prayer. My plan had been achieved within the embrace of night and now depleted, decent was the only option.

There is an overwhelming sense of calm making the walk back to Stella Point. We pass a few groups still heading to their dream and I smile. How strange it is sharing this moment, this maskless smile on the top of the world.

Sunshine smiles beam

Nineteen thousand feet above.

Descend to new life.

I am exhausted and I gratefully accept help putting on my spikes. I am overwhelmed by this simple gesture of kindness; I quietly sit and marvel at the touch of another. We have 4,000 feet to go before a quick nap at Base Camp and then another 6,000 feet before darkness welcomes us again. This next task is now more daunting than the last.

The snow is melting, revealing loose gravel and ‘miles to go before I sleep’.